Georges, a 2-year-old seafood spot in San Francisco's Financial District, has changed course in recent months with the addition of Saturday dining.

With high ceilings and a sleek design that effortlessly blends wood, Art Deco and Craftsman accents, Georges mixes a traditional San Francisco sensibility with a contemporary ambience. Part of that ambience includes a quasi-communal feel, since the tables are tightly packed.

In the kitchen, chef Michael Bilger - formerly of Carneros and then Kukio in Hawaii - places a major emphasis on sustainable and locally sourced ingredients. Many of his dishes work exceedingly well, while others are a tad rocky.

The crab cakes ($17) have a marvelous crispness, with no greasiness and moist Dungeness meat, with a spicy remoulade, while the Little Gem Caesar ($12) is dressed just enough to accent the tiny lettuce, succulent anchovies and house-made croutons.

Another gem

The albacore crudo ($17) is another gem, with thin tuna slices adorned with hearts of palm, a light fish sauce and McEvoy Ranch olive oil.

Yet other starters didn't work as well.

The sardines on toast ($14) were firm and had the perfect slightly strong richness, but the sun-dried tomato compote overwhelmed the toast, creating an overly moist concoction.

The calamari appetizer ($13), with a crunchy polenta crust and a tangy Meyer lemon aioli with a hint of basil, is a delight, but the amount of squid was overwhelming. My dining companion and I savored the dish, then started to pick, and unfortunately the calamari cooled and became droopy. It would be a great choice for a table of four - or a couple of San Francisco 49ers celebrating a playoff clinch.

That inconsistency in portion sizes can make the menu difficult to navigate. Be sure to ask your server for help.

Octopus pasta

On one visit, I ordered the small serving of the octopus pasta Bolognese ($12; the large is $21). With hints of saffron, the octopus gave the dish a marvelous husky flavor that made me revel in every bite, but the dish was far too much to finish. I have no idea how anyone could tackle the larger serving.

For main courses, the tuna ($26) deserves to be a Georges signature. The seemingly simple yet complex preparation features barely seared albacore flavored with hints of Indian spices atop a crispy chickpea pancake.

The trout ($23) has a definite air of old San Francisco, with crisply breaded fillets, buttermilk smashed potatoes and spinach. Old school to the hilt - you're almost transported to Jack's.

I can't understand why the fish and chips ($18) is relegated to the lunch menu. With three crisply breaded yet airy pieces of cod, fries, tartar sauce and cole slaw, this is one of the best versions I've had.

On the other hand, the day boat scallops ($29) were disappointing, with fish sauce and bacon overwhelming the seafood's delicate flavor.

Server issues

On one visit, I decided to try the grilled rib eye ($39), since it is the only meat main course. Even though I made a point of ordering it rare, I was instead served the same dish my friend ordered: scallops.

The apologetic waiter asked me twice if I wanted the steak I had originally ordered, but I declined. Yet 15 minutes later, the steak arrived, overdone and overpowered by a coffee rub. However, it never appeared on the check.

That was not the only server issue. The front-of-the-house man at lunch wore a Giants cap, which would be a possibly acceptable eccentricity for a restaurant near the ballpark. At Georges, it was as cringe-worthy as the fellow's incessant use of the phrase "Let's do it." Let's not.

One warning about arriving at Georges: Its entrance shares the foyer of the Fugazi Building with a nail salon. The restaurant is to the left, the salon straight ahead. Maybe it's bum luck, but I've caught a view of serious foot work every time. Just keep thinking, "Look to the left, look to the left," and you'll pass the callus minefield with nary a scar. Eating at Georges can be worth it.

Prices are based on main courses. When entrees fall between these categories, the prices of appetizers help determine the dollar ratings. Chronicle critics make every attempt to remain anonymous. All meals are paid for by The Chronicle. Star ratings are based on a minimum of three visits. Ratings are updated continually based on at least one revisit.